


The Burden of Oaths

by orphan_account



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon), Tangled (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Cass Can't Get a Clue, F/M, Inspired By Tumblr, Modern Royalty, Older Varian (Disney), Prince Varian, Rapunzel and Varian are Siblings (Disney), Royal Guard Cassandra, that i actually found on pinterest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:40:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26386552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "Isn't it your sworn duty to protect me?""Er-Of course, Your Highness. Though I'm certain the cup bearer-""Are you kidding? She's had it out for me ever since I accidentally made the soup explode as she was tasting it."Cassandra hesitated, her eyes glancing towards the door."Come on." He held a forkful of cake towards her, his eyes gleaming. "Just one bite."Or, Varian is a prince in modern day setting and Cassandra has been appointed as his personal guard. Contains: some violence (nothing overly graphic though), flirting, oblivious characters, some PTSD, bantering characters
Relationships: Cassandra & Rapunzel (Disney: Tangled), Cassandra/Varian (Disney: Tangled), Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider & Varian, Eugene Fitzherbert | Flynn Rider/Rapunzel
Comments: 10
Kudos: 42





	1. Sure Throw a Wrench in the Works Why Don't You

"I don't understand."

His Majesty and the Captain of the Guard shared a glance. 

"Have a seat, soldier."

She didn't want to sit down. In fact, she wanted to do anything _but_ sit down. It felt as though she had done nothing but sit for the past month. Even so, His Majesty's voice was so full of authority, Cassandra found herself lowering onto the plush chair in front of the King's grand oak desk.

King Frederic steepled his fingers, taking a breath as though gathering his thoughts. 

"The previous royal guard has, unfortunately, stepped down for personal reasons I can't disclose with you. This left me with limited people to fill the position- limited people that I _truly_ trust. I'm appointing you as personal guard for my son." 

Cassandra found herself at loss for words. She cast a helpless glance to her father, but he stood stoic and proper, as he always did.

"I..." She took a breath. Steeled herself. "I'm honored, Your Majesty." The words felt false and bitter on her tongue. "But why me? I've never stayed even a day in the palace, I don't know my way around nor the proper etiquette for royal guards or-" She felt panicked by the idea of it already. "I'm a _soldier._ I'm comfortable in the field with my troupe, and with all due respect, I'm just not sure if I could be of much use to you here."

The heat of her father's gaze burned into her, but she didn't dare look his way.

The King fixed her with a thoughtful stare. "Etiquette can be taught. You will learn your way around the grounds. The important aspect here is loyalty. I've known your father for decades. He's risked his life for this kingdom on numerous occasions and you've proved to have that same loyalty in you. I would entrust no one else to this task but you, soldier."

Her mouth was dry. "But what about my..." She trailed off. She was grasping at straws here, she knew, pulling the leg card but what else could she do? This assignment was so clearly wrong for her. Standing around all day watching His Highness play golf with his buddies? "I'm not in the best condition, physically I mean. If something were to go wrong-"

"I know all about the incident. From what I heard, your recovery has gone well but you're still not fit for fieldwork."

"No, not yet but the doctor said maybe in-"

"Which is why," His Majesty went on as though she hadn't even spoken. She clamped her mouth shut. "I thought that this assignment would be ideal for you. It won't require much strenuous physical exertion as the combative field. Honestly, threats from this far in are rare indeed and guards are the ones that keep it that way. Should any emergency situation occur, I'm sure you will be able to step up and protect my son, especially with all the high marks you've received through the field." His Majesty's eyes scanned a few papers laid out on his desk as he said the latter part, no doubt files on Cassandra's time spent in the force. He shuffled through the papers. "What do you say?"

"Thank you, truly, but I really don't think I can accept-"

" _Private_." 

She forgot herself and her eyes met the steely gaze of her father. 

"This is a great privilege." He spoke low, his eyes conveying a deeper meaning beyond what left his lips. "To be promoted to a personal royal guard for someone of your age and experience, it's a huge honor His Majesty has granted you."

She couldn't refuse. She was no use in the field anymore. One stupid, rash decision, and her life was forever gone. All she'd worked for, shattered apart from one mistake. This was her punishment, she knew. Looking into her father's eyes, it was clear she was not forgiven. She straightened herself, turning her eyes back to her king. "Thank you." She swallowed. "I would be honored to accept the position." 

* * *

Cassandra almost didn't recognize herself. The new uniform wasn't exactly what she was used to. After years of military service in the thick of the action, she had grown accustomed to camouflage browns and greens, raggedy trousers, and loose shirts. This was...not that.

Her fingers ran over the dark matte buttons of the cropped green militant jacket. The material was stiff and sturdy, the stitching precise and detailed for decoration. There was a badge on the left side of the royal crest. The black trousers fit impeccably over her legs. A belt was fastened around her waist, empty pouches laid limp. She would be armed tomorrow. Overall, the effect was neat, orderly, _privileged._ She swung her good leg forward gently, slowly bending her knee up, raising her leg before sliding it out to the side. At least the slim trousers didn't inhibit her range of motion at all. No more than the injury did at least. Carefully, she tested her right leg, lifting it up the same way she had done the other. It was painful stretching it up so, but she could do it. She _would_ do it if the occasion so rose. 

She scoffed. _As if._

Lowering her leg, a wave of frustration hit her at how it shaky it felt from that small action. _Patience._ She just had to wait. She could do that. She would wait and bide her time watching a spoiled prince play croquet in the gardens. She laughed softly. Croquet? Was that even a real thing anymore?

"Suited up, soldier?" 

Her body straightened automatically. Cass caught her father's gaze in the mirror but quickly refocused back on her uniform. She picked an imaginary piece of lint off.

"Yes, Sir." 

"This is a great opportunity for you," The captain prattled on, stepping into the room. "There's a great deal of prestige-"

"In _babysitting_?" Her tongue escaped her. She was pushing it, she knew but she found herself too angry to care.

His eyes narrowed. "You should learn to recognize an honorable position when it's given, Private." 

Her gaze burned into her reflection, his rod-like form stood just to the side of her. 

"Believe it or not, this is not a punishment-"

"Really?" She whirled on him. "Then why won't you let me back in the field?" Her gaze darted between both his eyes, challenging him.

The captain's jaw twitched, brown eyes flickering dangerously. "We both know I can't let you do that."

Cassandra's throat felt thick. All those years she spent, working herself to the bone day after day to prove herself fit for field combat...was it for nothing? "So that's it?" Her eyes stung. "For one mistake? You know that if it was anyone else out there-"

_"_ _Cassandra!"_

The words died on her tongue as a piece of her heart crumbled away.

He took a breath. His hands gripping the edge of his coat, tugging it straight although it already had been pristine. She watched him walk away from her. Cursed to always see his back turned from her. His fingers hovered on the door handle.

"You know some things don't heal overnight," His gaze flicked over her leg before meeting her eyes.

As he left, Cass tugged on the edges of her coat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a quick intro chapter to get things shaking.
> 
> This story is meant to be just a light, fun thing for me. It is a back-burner project though as Out of the Blue is my main focus at the moment.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Tangled the Series doesn't do surnames so I just went to town coming up with all these names. Let me know what you think of them-if any of them cause to wrinkle your nose let me know- and to clarify, Yasuda is the name of the palace, it's not a person.

Cassandra rapped three times on the door to the Chief of Palace Security at 0500 hours exactly. 

Years in the military had ingrained in her the ability to thrive on little sleep. She had never been more grateful for the skill, as the young woman hadn't gotten much in the way of shuteye the previous night. Whether it was the fact that the mattress she had lied on was entirely too comfortable (she had never felt anything so soft in her life) or if it was the foreboding sense that her new room was less of a luxury guestroom for an esteemed palace position and more of a prison cell. No matter, she was simply satisfied to escape the room and those lingering, pesky thoughts of hers. She squared her shoulders, her features masked into an unfazed, neutral expression that she had much practice with.

One of the double doors swung open, revealing a tall woman. The woman had platinum hair held back in a high ponytail, a muscled figure, and features that spoke of a possibility that she was of Asian descent, but Cassandra didn't like to assume.

Dark eyes bore down on her.

Remembering herself, Cassandra focused her gaze straight ahead, toward an off-white wall beyond the doorframe inside the room. "Sir," her right hand flew up in a salute, "Private McCoy reporting for duty."

From her peripheral, she saw the woman shake her head. "Geeze, when they said you were military, they weren't kidding," she muttered. "At ease there, Shorthair."

Her brow quirked a bit at the name, but Cass relaxed, easing her arm back down before following her new commanding officer inside the room.

She was struck by the interior of the office. Bookcases, filled with tilting books and random knick-knacks, lined the walls. There was a sofa just to the right as she entered, but the pillows were on the floor. An abandoned mug sat alone next to a white ring marked on the coffee table. On the sleek, black desk in the far left corner laid stacks of papers and files strewn about. It wasn't so much that the place was such a disastrous mess that it threw her off, rather it was such a stark contrast from her father's tiny office back at the base.

Frustration bit at her ankles, causing her to walk again. She would have to put that behind her if she was to work here. She couldn't keep dwelling on it. 

"Want to talk about the leg?" The woman was sitting at her desk already, leafing through a file that Cass knew had her name on it.

She approached the desk as though it could be set to detonate at any moment. "You've already read the facts."

"Facts don't make the story," the cream folder gently fell back to the desktop with a _flick._ "Have a seat."

Cassandra sat.

"I'm Adira Vaughn, the Chief of Security and your new commanding officer." 

Cassandra couldn't help but notice a plate with a few bits of cake left on it. Was that from the night before?

"I understand your the new personal guard for Varian."

The informal use of the prince's name threw Cass off guard. "Um, yes. His Majesty thought I would be well-suited for the position."

"Are you?"

Cassandra looked at her sharply, but couldn't tell if this officer-if Vaughn, was baiting her.

"I'm sure I can handle whatever this job requires of me." 

She swore she saw the woman's lips curve up just _slightly_ in a challenging smirk. "We'll see," Just like that, the look was gone and the woman was picking up a fork from the cake plate. "You'll report to my office every day at 6 am sharp with updates. Then, you will proceed to the Prince's location and excuse the night guard of his duty." Abruptly, she spat out a piece of the cake with a look of both disdain and disappointment. "Frosting can never last even a few hours," she mumbled.

Cassandra wasn't sure if she should respond to that.

Abruptly, Vaughn stood. "Come on, Shorthair. Let's get you suited up with your weapons and comms. The armory isn't far. I'll explain more on the way."

Though she had lived out many of her days fueled with an uncertain future on the encampments of a battlefield, Cassandra had never felt more uncertain for her future than she did following her new Commanding Officer out the door of the cluttered security office.

* * *

"Private McCoy, let me introduce you to our weapons expert, Xavier Lefevre."

The tall, burly man's face split into a wide grin, holding out his hand to Cassandra.

"Pleasure to meet you, Sir." His dark hand was rough and worn as leather against her palm. 

"You must be the new guard the King hired, eh?" 

"Yes, today is my official first day." She allowed herself a look around the room. It was huge, but then again, the whole palace was enormous. It would take Cassandra a long time to get her bearings on all the hallways and corridors in the place. To enter the armory, Vaughn had to wave a keycard over a scanner on the door and upon entry into the small opening room, the two were scanned with a metal detector by one of the two guards on post. Now that they were finally in the actual armory room, Cassandra was in awe of the rows of weapons and armor on display in the area. Off to the right side, Xavier Lefevre seemed to have his own space with tools laid out and some sort of prints for weapons.

Cassandra gave a low whistle. Most of the weapons were standard issue stuff, supplies for every guard on security for Yasuda, nothing flashy or quite military grade. It was sleek, refined, and immaculate enough to impress the young soldier.

"Beautiful, ain't it?" Adira was looking around the room with a prideful gleam in her eyes. "Xavier has done a fine job keeping all of this tech up-to-date and accounted for."

"It's very impressive." Cass gave the man a genuine smile, it was perhaps the first she had given since coming here. 

He beamed, wiping a hand on his green apron before unlocking a drawer in one of the side walls. He waved Cassandra over. "These are your comms. I trust you're familiar with using communication devices in the field?"

She nodded her affirmation, holding the sleek black earpiece in her hand. 

"This one is simple to use. You can hold this button to talk for a limited interval of time, or you could double-tap the button to speak for longer periods of time or in case of attack. When you do press the button, it is automatically synced to transmit to all the guards' radios within 200 feet of you. You can use the voice activation to connect to other channels such as your superior," he nodded to Vaughn. "Is this making sense?" 

Her head swam a bit with the information. "Yeah, so far."

"Don't worry," He said with a comforting smile, "You can practice with it before you leave."

She put the earpiece in with a nod but found herself distracted by what the man pulled from the drawer next.

Cassandra gave a soft intake of breath at the sight of the dark matte surface of the baston. 

"Your file mentioned that you're skilled in Eskrima," Lefevre was saying. "In this job, any threats that you face will most likely get you involved with close-combat so I designed a new baston for you."

The weapon was cool to the touch as Cassandra flipped it around her fingers. It was a perfect weight, not too heavy so it slowed her down but not too light so as to be useless in a fight. Her eyes flickered up to the man beside her. 

"You designed this for me?" Her head tilted at the thought. It almost made her want to cry. Almost. Well, not really but she was touched even though she knew it truly didn't have anything to do with _her_ personally. It was simply part of this man's job to make sure she had the essential tools to ensure the prince's safety.

Still. It was one of the nicest gifts she had ever got.

"...I built-in the mechanism myself. It's extendable and collapsable so as to make it easier for you to carry on your back."

With a flick of her wrist, the baton snapped and shot out from either side until it was over half her height in length. Her lips curled up as she let it slide around her fingers. 

This job might have its perks after all. 

It was about twenty minutes later until she was fully suited up. Cassandra carried the baston on a holster at her back, two concealed guns (a Five-seveN and a Beretta M9), and two daggers. She hardly felt it was necessary, all she really needed was a gun and the baston-if she ended up needing _any_ weapons at all-but she wasn't about to tell her new commander that she disagreed.

Then again, maybe if she did get off on the wrong foot she would be excused from this assignment and get back in the real field. 

She shook the thought away as soon as it came. She wasn't going anywhere anytime soon-the Captain would make sure of that. She would have to screw up big time in order to get out of here and that would only result in her complete dismissal after the stunt she pulled.

"You aren't to speak with His Highness unless he speaks to you," The Chief set a brisk pace the second they stepped out of the armory. 

"Yes, Sir," Cassandra nodded, only half a step behind.

"You are to address him as 'Your Highness' when he does address you. Remember, you are to be within thirty feet of him at all times, _especially_ when he is outside of the palace. I'll brief you more on the details of that protocol if you get through your first day." 

She felt her lips curl up despite herself. "What, you think they'll be an attempt on his life on my first day?"

The older woman paused for the smallest of moments before rounding a corner. "No, of course not. Hardly any threats get beyond the palace gates."

She frowned as they continued, the woman going on with the procedures that Cassandra had already been informed of and studied the day before. She had memorized it all but of course, she was informed that she would have to take practice sessions on the protocols while she was transferring into the position. She took the time to admire the architecture of the palace. It was all high ceilings, light airy colors with carved detailing in the walls and ceilings. It was rather breathtaking to walk through, as though Cassandra had stepped back in time a couple of hundred years. It felt odd for her boots to tread on the marble floors.

"Why did the last guard decide to step down?" She asked when Vaughn paused for a breath. Her words were light, curious, to hide the swirling thoughts of doubt and suspicion inside her.

"Personal reasons."

They stopped abruptly and Cassandra thought for a second that she was going to elaborate but then Vaughn raised her eyebrows in question.

"Are you ready?" 

Before she had a chance to answer, Vaughn raised her knuckles to the door in a loud knock.

It was only a moment before the door opened, a man with a long face and bright ginger hair in a nice suit peering at the pair.

"Ah, Chief," He spoke in recognition before turning to Cassandra. "Is this the new one?"

"Yes. We're here to see His Highness. I assume he's awake?"

The man rolled his eyes. "When is he not?" He opened the door wider, calling over his shoulder, "Your Highness, you have visitors."

Cassandra allowed Vaughn to step in first, all at once feeling incredibly wary.

The second she stepped through the doorway she blanched. This wasn't the prince's quarters, as she had assumed they were. Where else would His Highness be when it was still six in the morning? But no, the room before was spacious and regal like every other inch of the palace she had seen so far but that was where the similarities ended. The room was lined with cabinets and multiple tables were arranged around the space. Littered on the tables were beakers, test tubes, clear coiled tubes, there was even steam rising from a boiling pot filled with who knew what. Long windows poured in the early morning light 

Cassandra found herself roaming the edges of the room, eyes wide as she caught notes and books strewn about on the floor.

"Your Highness."

It was only at the butler's voice that she turned to take notice of a hunched form near the far right side of the room.

"The chief is here along with the new guard."

The man gave no indication that he even heard, just continued in whatever he was so caught up with.

_This was going to be fun._

Cassandra took a few strides forward, taking notice that he was fiddling with some fabric laid out in front of him. She also noticed the way his hair was sticking up at odd angles, how he was wearing jeans and beat-up Chuck Taylors. This was the prince? She would have been more inclined to believe the butler was His Royal Highness.

"Prince Varian, please-"

"Adira," the Prince looked up suddenly at the Chief, paying no mind still to the butler who seemed very used to this type of behavior. "Could you tack this up to that board over there?" 

He was handing over the fabric to Vaughn who didn't even question it and went ahead with hanging the fabric up.

"You, _Milady_ ," His lips quirked up and it took a moment for her to realize that he was addressing her. "I assume you have a gun on you?"

"I- what?" 

"Here. Come this way." 

He gently took her elbow and Cassandra stiffened at his touch. He guided her to the wall opposite of where the fabric now hung before stepping back. 

"Adira, if you'd step away."

The Chief took several places away from the fabric. 

"Now-" the Prince gestured to the square of fabric, "-if you'd please shoot in the center of the piece of fabric there, Milady."

Cassandra stared. "I'm sorry?" 

Was this a test? A practical joke maybe?

Her gaze slid to Vaughn, hoping the older woman would step in or crack a smile. The Chief only shrugged.

"Oh, here we go," she heard the butler mutter.

"Just right there, if you'd please," The Prince was saying, encouraging her on with a nod and a too-eager grin for the time of morning that it was.

Hesitantly, Cass slid the gun at her hip from its holster, glancing at all the occupants in the room before cocking the gun and setting her stance. She took a steady breath, and with her eyes on the fabric, pulled the trigger.

With an almost soft bang, the bullet careened straight into the center of the thick material.

In an instant, the Prince was in front of it, inspecting the material to assess the damage.

Cassandra cast Vaughn a look she hoped conveyed _what the hell was that about?_

The Prince let out a boisterous laugh, hopping up with a fist bump. "Yes! It finally-" 

He cut off as a loud hissing filled the air.

The material was smoking a grey, dusty vapor arising from it.

"Oh no," he muttered, eyes wide.

She was moving before she thought about it. 

"Get away!"

She hooked an arm around the prince, pulling him forward and away before the explosion knocked them both off their feet.

Her eyes opened to find herself hovered over the prince's frame. His blue eyes were wide as a sheepish and uncertain smile took over his features.

"Private McCoy," Chief Vaughn sputtered through a cough. "Meet His Highness, Prince Varian."


End file.
